


Clothes That Don't Fit

by AdamantSteve



Series: WIP Amnesty/FicDump [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, deaged tony, deaging, resistance to sexual thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:14:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets deaged physically but not mentally. Steve has to deal with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes That Don't Fit

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: **this story is unfinished and unbetaed**.The end of the fic has a list of what happens after the events detailed in the story. If you want to adopt this fic, or any of the others in this series, you are more than welcome!
> 
> ALSO OF NOTE: this story is about Tony getting deaged yet still being mentally the same person that Steve is in a relationship with. Tony gets really frustrated that Steve won't fuck him because it seems too weird to him. There's some ~impure thoughts~ but nothing actually happens in the end.

Steve rolled over and smiled sleepily at the back of Tony's head peeking out of the covers next to him. The light in the room was just starting to brighten and Steve reached out an arm to wrap over his husband so he could slot himself behind him ready to wake him up with gentle kisses.

 

But something was wrong. 

"Tony?!" Steve cried, flinching away from the body that was... not... Tony's. It was smaller. Much smaller. 

"Who the hell are you!?" Steve said, getting up as the small person in the bed rolled over and blinked at him, bleary eyed.

"What are you yelling at, Steve? Come back to bed," he mumbled, closing his eyes and pulling the covers up around him tighter. Steve looked at him with horror. That wasn't Tony. He was just a kid. He looked like he couldn't be more than fourteen. 

 

Gingerly, Steve crawled back onto the bed so he could get a better look at this interloper. He looked familiar. A mess of thick black hair and long eyelashes on soft cheeks. He'd seen him before. Then he placed him. He'd been in photographs of Howard after Steve had gone into the ice. 

 

A cold feeling spread across Steve.

 

"T...Tony?" Steve said, reaching out a hand and not knowing quite what to do with it. The boy opened one eye and grabbed the hand, started to turn over again but then stopped. He spread his fingers across it and blinked awake properly, staring at Steve's hand before staring at his own. He dropped Steve and stared wide-eyed at his hand, turning it over and over before looking back at Steve. 

Tony lifted up the covers and looked down at his body before dropping them and staring at the ceiling. "What the fuck is going on?" 

 

-

 

Loki. Always Loki.

 

It had been a few weeks before, which is why Steve's mind hadn't immediately gone there. Tony had made some quip mid-Avenge, something along the lines of Loki acting like a spoilt child and he'd said Tony would pay for 'his insolence'. And this, apparently, was how. 

 

Tony appeared to physically be around early to mid-teens, though mentally, exactly as he was the night before he woke up like that. Steve bristled at this child swearing blue murder just like Tony but in this different voice. The arc reactor had been next to Tony in the bed, along with his wedding ring which had slipped off of much thinner fingers. His chest bore no scars. Nor did the rest of his body for that matter. 

 

Steve was beside himself. He felt lost without Tony there. His Tony. At the same time he wanted to comfort the new Tony, furious and upset and scared even if he refused to show it. Steve knew Tony's mannerisms no matter what his age. 

 

After a visit to Tony's personal tailor for clothes that actually fit, discussions were held as to what exactly they ought to do. Tony, ever the alpha male even if he was pushing 5 foot, acted and spoke in the same way he usually would, sassing Fury and 'Agent' just as much as usual. His jibes didn't seem to have quite the same affect as they usually would, and it could only be his new child-like appearance that made the difference. 

 

A plan was hatched to have Thor contacted through various complicated SHIELD ways and ask him to bring Loki to task once again. The time frame was anyone's guess. In the mean time, Tony's de-aged state would be kept under wraps, and if anyone asked, Young Tony was just Anthony, a distant relative visiting during the school holidays. 

 

It was in the limo home that Tony snapped at Steve. "Jesus christ Steve could you quit looking at me like that?" 

"Like what?" 

"Like I'm a child!" 

"But... you are a-"

"No I'm fucking not, Steve. I'm me. I'm forty-five years old. I'm still your husband."

"Tony, I'm not- I'm trying, ok? I don't know... how I'm supposed to react here."

"Just react like you normally would! I'm still me!" The car was quiet but for the sounds of the city outside for a moment. "Say... I lost an arm. Or I was paralysed. You'd have been all over me offering me comfort, kissing me, hugging me. And you can't even bear to touch me." 

Tony usually rebuffed any of Steve's outward shows of affection in public, or made a joke out of them. But it was true, Steve hadn't offered him any of that all day.

"I'm sorry Tony, it just... it seems wrong, you know? Y-you're a child!" 

"I'm not a child!! I just look like one!"

The rest of the ride home was silent. Steve guiltily reached out a hand for Tony to take and it felt tiny. Fragile. Tony tried to thread his fingers with Steve's and it looked... wrong. Steve wanted to pull away but Tony's small fist kept him still. He had to at least try to act like things were normal. 

 

Part of Steve wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss everything better. But he felt wrong thinking of kissing this - this boy like that. Putting his lips to that soft pink mouth with no trace of stubble to scratch him. He thought about how light he'd be in his lap and then shut that thought away. It was wrong. This Tony was a child. 

 

Back at the mansion, Tony made a beeline for the bar and had to strain to get the cork out of the bottle he chose. Steve opened his mouth to say something but stopped when Tony glared at him. "I don't want to hear it, Steve," Tony said quietly in his newly soft voice. 

 

All there was to do now was wait. Steve had been signed off from active duty to act as full time husband slash guardian of Tony and Tony was clearly not in a fit state to do anything as Iron Man since the suit wouldn't fit and he was arc reactorless anyhow. They sat on the couch like they had so many hundreds of times before, and Steve pulled his sketchbook towards him to idly draw while Tony flicked through channels on the tv and drank his way through two whiskies. He looked miniature sitting on the huge couch, and Steve tried not to stare but failed. He looked so innocent and sweet. Huge brown eyes and smooth skin down his neck. Even his hair looked softer. 

 

"Usually you only look at me like that when you wanna fuck me," Tony said, not taking his eyes from the screen. "N-no! Tony!" Steve exclaimed, disgusted. Tony slid his eyes over to Steve and they looked a little glassy already, though it wasn't a surprise considering how much smaller he was now. It made Steve feel uneasy. 

"What is it?" Tony chided, turning to face him properly, "what thing are you obsessing over about the new me? Let me see," he leaned forward to tip the sketchbook in Steve's hands towards him. Steve had been 'obsessing' over Tony's lips, which he'd drawn half a dozen times on the page Tony was looking at. 

 

"My lips, huh?" And he licked them suggestively as he looked Steve up and down hungrily. Steve swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't like where this was going. 

Steve slapped the sketchbook closed and held it tightly in his lap. "That - I, I was just doodling," he said, looking down at his hands. 

"Right," Tony said, standing up. "I'm going to the workshop." With that he briskly walked out of the room, leaving Steve to watch the condensation on the glass run onto the coffee table. 

 

-

 

It didn't seem right: a kid working unsupervised in Tony's workshop. Even though it WAS Tony. The only thing different about him was his body. Steve kept trying to remind himself of that fact. He wanted to go down and watch him work, to make sure he was safe, but thought that Tony might construe it as him trying to 'baby sit'. 

"Just think of him like normal Tony," Steve thought to himself, determining to let him to have his losing-himself-in-work time, which he always needed after something especially stressful had happened. Heavy drinking usually accompanied that, which sat uneasily with Steve at the best of times but he didn't know what to do about that, either. As much as Tony liked drinking, he never got so drunk that he was sick, so he hoped... _hoped_ that he'd be careful. But that hope was par for the course with Tony on a good day.

 

Steve gave in a few hours later when Jarvis wouldn't tell him anything. He went to check on Tony and found him welding metal together, apparently halfway through making what looked like a child-sized suit. When he turned to look at Steve entering, he was shocked again by him. Miniature Tony. He was wearing the same sort of wife-beater that he usually did for any messy work, but it was huge on him now. His face was streaked with oil and his hair was sticking up all over the place. The welding iron looked comically huge in his small hands and it was clearly something of an effort for him to use it. The safety goggles that he was wearing were threatening to fall off his nose.

 

Tony nodded in greeting before another loud noise and shower of sparks lit up the room. "You should be wearing a mask," Steve wanted to say, but didn't want to start that argument again. "Can I help?" He asked, instead.

Tony studied him for a moment, and eventually he nodded. "Sure, you still know how to weld, right?" Steve had learned to weld in one of his modern art classes, which Tony had teased him about but still kept the first thing he'd made as a centrepiece in his office. Steve smiled. " _Yes_. You can tell me what to do and I'll weld it, right?" 

"Perfect," Tony replied, pushing the tools into Steve's hands and pulling off his gloves, far too big for him. Steve put them on and after a little rooting around, found the welding helmet under another bench.

 

They worked together, and the uneasiness Steve had felt around this new version of Tony began to wear off. He talked the same, acted the same, had the same facial expressions and mannerisms. When Steve said he was tired and needed to go to sleep, Tony agreed and asked Steve to carry him to bed like a maiden. Steve laughingly did it, scooping the boy up in his arms and carrying him easily up to their bedroom. 

 

Steve hadn't thought about sleeping yet. It still seemed inappropriate to sleep with Tony in his current state, but he hadn't done anything wrong, and he knew that Tony would see it that way if Steve elected to sleep elsewhere. He showered quickly and came back out to see Tony already asleep, in his usual spot. He smiled fondly and slid in next to him, mindful to keep to his own side of the bed. 

 

-

 

_Eventually, Tony manages to seduce Steve._

_Later still, he gets re-aged and everything is fine._

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
